Of Squirrels and Sorcerers
by CricketCat
Summary: A one-shot set after the movie.  Dave has a run-in with a squirrel.


**This is my first fan-fic for _The Sorcerer's Apprentice_, and I've only seen the movie once, so if I've got anybody out of character or you think this whole thing's just too weird, please don't kill me. I really did try to get it right. As always, constructive criticism is welcome.**

**Just for the record, I have no idea who this unfortunate Camille person is or why she was even around Dave when this little mishap occurred. I just found the idea amusing.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Literally, nothing. I took the rental back three days ago.**

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"I can't believe you did this." Balthazar paused to reconsider. "Actually, I can. I really don't know why I'm surprised."

"It was an accident."

"I'm pretty sure she won't see it that way."

"Hey, at least I didn't turn her into a pigeon," Dave pointed out as they strolled past a large flock of the winged vermin in question.

"No, you just turned her into a squirrel and now she's loose in Central Park."

"It was an accident," he repeated sheepishly.

"Don't apologize to me, apologize to her. When we find her."

"Yeah, about that? How are we gonna find her?"

"We'll start by looking."

"I got that part, but how will we know it's her? I mean, will she be able to talk to us, or—"

"Magic doesn't work like it does in cartoons, Dave," his master explained. "This is the real world, not a Disney movie. People changed into animals do not retain any of their human counterpart's nature except their memory and personality. Camille's not able to speak, she's not able to change herself back, and she's not walking around like a tiny human in a squirrel suit. In short, her entire being is squirrelish. However, she will still have the same shrewish personality and the memory of you changing her, so it's safe to say she'll be—"

"Mad?"

"That's an understatement."

"It that what the cage's for?"

Dave pointed to the cat carrier Balthazar held in his left hand. He'd brought the cage along as an extra precaution in case Camille came unhinged on them and, understandably, started attacking Dave. That and because, even in New York City, walking around with an apparently tame squirrel would look a bit odd.

"This is just to make things a little less conspicuous. Don't worry about it."

Dave dubiously eyed his companion's ancient trench coat, among other aspects of his attire, but said nothing. As they rounded the corner, they came across a clear spot in the park with a single large oak tree. Scurrying up and down its trunk, and gathered around its base, were at least two dozen squirrels.

"Right," Dave muttered. "Don't worry."

Balthazar clapped him on the shoulder.

"Get started."

"What, now? How will I recognize her?"

"Look for the one that's not digging a hole or fighting over a nut. Shouldn't be too difficult. Just remember: Being a squirrel puts her at a slight advantage over you."

"Such as?"

"Such as being able to crawl down your shirt and bite you in sensitive places. No pressure, though."

"Sure."

Thoroughly unconvinced, Dave made his way uneasily toward the lively group of rodents, wishing dearly this whole ordeal was over. He'd planned to meet Becky for dinner that evening. Instead, he was chasing squirrels across Central Park. The majority of the creatures ran when he approached, but an equally large amount remained. Balthazar watched with well-hid amusement as his apprentice staggered around partially bent over, looking for the unfortunate transformee in the crowd, while at the same time trying not to step on any of the animals. Finally he straightened up, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I think I found her."

"Where?"

"There," Dave said, pointing to a squirrel perched on a low branch of the tree.

"What makes you so sure?"

"It looks like it wants to kill me."

He was right. The rodent was eyeing him with a squirrelish glower. Balthazar set the cage down.

"That's probably her. Go check."

Fully aware of how foolish her looked and grateful there was no one, particularly Becky, around to see this, Dave walked over to the tree and leaned forward until he and the squirrel were eye-level.

"Camille?"

The squirrel twitched her tail twice, and locked eyes with him. A heavy silence followed. After what seemed like an eternity of being stuck in a staring contest with a squirrel, Dave reached out toward the branch. The squirrel sniffed the offered hand, hesitated, and then launched herself at his face with a furry vengeance.

"Gah!"

Dave staggered back, the Camille-squirrel firmly latched to his head. He spun around, frantically attempting to remove her, but only seemed to succeed in making her angrier. The squirrel dodged his flapping arms, crawled to the back of his head, and buried herself up in his hoodie, nipping him whenever she could find an opportunity. The irate chattering and chittering increased in frequency and volume while Dave leaped about in a frenzied dance, still trying in vain to snag the squirrel. Balthazar reached out, grabbed the apprentice's shirt collar as he passed, gently disentangled the livid rodent from the folds of the hoodie, and pried her away from Dave's head.

"Take it easy," he whispered, trying to soothe her. "It's okay."

"It's okay?" Dave repeated incredulously. "She tried to eat my face!"

Balthazar looked up from placing Camille in the cat carrier to view his apprentice's face. Sure enough, his cheeks were crisscrossed with scratches and claw marks which ran down to his chin, his right earlobe had squirrel-shaped teeth marks, and the tip of his nose was turning a vibrant red color.

"It's a long way from your heart," the sorcerer told him. "Put some Neosporin on it."

Dave watched the squirrel darting back and forth, searching for a way out. He nervously started edging away when she halted at one end and fixed him with a death-stare.

"She, uh, still looks… pretty mad. What'll you do with her?"

"Take her home, have Veronica calm her down, and change her back. She'll be fine. Don't you have a date this evening?"

Taking that as his cue, Dave left quickly, just as eager to get away from Camille's burning eyes as he wanted to meet up with Becky. In hindsight, he supposed he should have been more suspicious about Balthazar's motives for letting him go without restoring Camille to her normal state.

He didn't think anything of it until two weeks later when he woke up one morning with fuzzy ears and a large, bushy squirrel tail. Revenge was oh, so sweet.


End file.
